


I'm Alive

by princelogical



Series: Sanders Sides Misc. Work [5]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Childhood Trauma, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Breakdown, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 21:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12197829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princelogical/pseuds/princelogical
Summary: Theory; Logan is not a human being.or.Logan's going into his freshman year and he isn't quite sure what he is, but he's pretty sure it's not human.





	I'm Alive

Logan doesn’t remember being born. He doesn’t remember his parent’s death. He doesn’t remember being brought to the home. He doesn’t remember crying; he doesn’t remember grieving. He just listens to Mrs. Guerra go on fondly about how he was as a young child.  

“Such a sweet little boy,” she says, “but he’s had such a hard life.”

The story he was told goes like this: When he was nine years old, his parents died of a drug overdose and Logan found them there, choking on their saliva in the living room. He was so distraught that he screamed until his voice gave out entirely. The police deemed it a joint suicide and Logan was put into the home, ran by Mrs. Guerra (a sweet, older lady with an addiction to solitaire).

He doesn’t remember any of that; he just remembers waking up one day and this being his life. Phycologists say it is repression; he’s repressing the traumatic memories to keep himself safe, but Logan just thinks perhaps his memory didn’t develop until he was older. Perhaps he’s showing signs of early _every very early_ dementia. Or maybe they’re all lying to him.

He likes to believe the last one.

-O-

“I prefer MCR any day. The Mulan Soundtrack isn’t an acceptable favorite band.”

“Stop being so emo, Virgil.”

Logan rolls over in bed and blinks to see Roman and Virgil sitting beside his bed, a pile of albums spilt across the wooden floorboards. Roman grabs for one of the albums and raises it happily; the prince costume he’s worn since he first arrived at the home glints in the light from the ceiling fan three feet from Logan’s bed.

“This one’s the best.”

“No way. That’s trash. You can’t favor a musical soundtrack over MCR.”

“Yes, I can.”

“What are you two doing in my room?” Logan asks, reaching for his glasses on the bedside table. He slips them on and then grabs his phone, holding down the power button to turn it on.

“We were bored of our own room,” Roman says. He flashes a grin. “We brought music. Tell me, Logan, what’s your all-time fave band?”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Music is pointless.”

“What?” Roman and Virgil ask at the same time. While it’s refreshing to see the two agreeing on something for once, Logan is annoyed that ganging up on him is the thing they’re agreeing on.

“It provides no benefit to me so I don’t listen to music often.” He pushes himself out of bed and heads to his closet to grab his clothes for the day. He checks his phone for the time: 6:30. Good; he doesn’t want to be anything but punctual for his first day of high school and the bus leaves at 7:10 exactly. Roman makes fun of him all the time for it, but Logan figures that he might as well begin preparing to be responsible in high school rather than wait.

“Music is awesome though,” Virgil says. “It makes you… feel things.”

“Fascinating,” Logan says with a sigh as he unhooks a black dress shirt from the closet. “However, I prefer not to get caught up in… feelings.”

“You really are a robot,” Roman jokes.

“Perhaps,” Logan says lightly. “Now, please exit while I change.”

Roman and Virgil look at each other, then they gather their albums and leave. As soon as the door clicks shut, Logan sighs in the silence. He prefers being alone, though, for some reason, Roman and Virgil love to bug him above anyone else. Mrs. Guerra says it’s because the two eighth graders admire him; Logan kind of hopes that’s it.

Logan quickly dresses, making sure his tie is perfectly straight and his collar neatly folded over. He grabs his backpack, checking over his textbooks and supplies once- twice, then a third time for good measure. His grey notebook sits on his bedside table and Logan hesitantly picks it up. He flips to the first page.

**Theory; Logan is not a human being.**

He shoves it in his backpack and heads downstairs.

-O-

The bus leaves at exactly 7:15am because the bus driver takes a few minutes to talk to a parent. Logan slips in a seat and wishes silently that everyone understands not to sit beside him. Luck doesn’t favor him, for, at the next stop, a boy in a bright blue top with a cardigan wrapped around his shoulders slips right in beside Logan.

“Hey!” the boy says with a bright grin.

“Hello,” Logan replies. He wonders briefly how rude it would be if he took out his phone to avoid conversation, but before he can ponder that, the boy is already asking questions.

“Are you new?”

“Yes. I’m a freshman, so this is my first day at the high school.”

“That’s awesome!” Patton says excitedly. “I’m a junior. What’s your name?”

“Logan,” he says.

“Patton.”

“Nice to meet you, Patton,” Logan says in a polite tone. “Do you enjoy high school?”

Patton shrugs. “It’s all right. There are funner things to do. Like, play with puppies!”

“I suppose that is accurate,” Logan says. “However, “funner” is not a proper word. “More fun,” would be more accurate.”

“Huh,” Patton says. “Nice to know, kiddo!”

Logan frowns. “Are you not a _kiddo_ yourself?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Patton shrugs with a laugh. “But I am older than you still.”

“I suppose.”

The bus comes to a halt and everyone files anxiously out the door as the bus drivers yells at them to slow down. Patton skips out, pacing himself beside Logan with a big grin still on his face.

“If you need any help, just ask!”

“Thank you,” Logan says. He walks inside the building and it’s exactly as it was at the open house, but more alive than ever.

Logan loves it.

-O-

  * Logan likes school. No normal child likes school.



-O-

At some point, everyone discusses conspiracy theories at the lunch table Patton invited Logan to sit at.

“Moon landing? Fake,” a girl with long blue curls says matter-of-factly.

“Nah, I don’t buy that,” another student says, their hands fiddling with their soggy bowl of broccoli. “But you know what I do believe in?”

“What?” Patton asks excitedly. Logan laces his fingers, eyes affixed to the student.

They grin. “Robots that are just like humans.”

“No way,” Patton says with a laugh. “You can always tell the difference between a real person and a robot.”

“Lies of a brainwashed citizen,” they say. They lean in, brown bangs pilling over their eyes. Logan finds himself leaning in too. “The government has put robots here. And they’re convincing, but if you know them well enough, you can tell that they’re not quite real.”

Patton laughs. “That’s most gosh-darned ridiculous thing ever.”

They shrug. “All right, non-believer.”

Logan clears his throat. “Robots are highly likely. Artificial intelligence has improved so much over the last few decades. I wouldn’t rule it out.”

“Logan, my man,” the student says, throwing their hand out. Logan gives them a hesitant high-five.

“Well, I think it’s bologna,” the girl says.

“Maybe,” the student muses then drops their voice even lower. “Or maybe not.”

Patton laughs again and Logan pretends to find it just as funny.

**_~~Theory; Logan is not a human being.~~ _ **

-O-

  * Logan doesn’t understand jokes.
  * Logan talks in an odd way.
  * Logan likes boring things like physics and math.
  * Logan doesn’t understand music.
  * Logan doesn’t understand people.
  * Logan doesn’t understand friendship.
  * Logan only understands things that are clean-cut and not abstract.
  * _~~Logan doesn’t have feelings.~~_



-O-

“Clean up this mess,” Mrs. Guerra stresses in exasperation as she peaks her head in Logan’s room. Virgil and Roman jerk their heads up; Roman attempts to kick the mess of costumes and makeup under Logan’s bed, but his effort proves unnecessary as Mrs. Guerra leaves the room.

Roman pulls the mess back from under the bed. “Let me finish your eyeliner, Hot Topic,” Roman says.

Logan sighs and sets down his textbook on his bed and looks to the two on the floor. “Could you two please exit my room? I’m trying to study.”

“Sorry,” Virgil says and makes to get up, but Roman shoves him back down.

“How was high school? Is it the great adventure everyone claims?” Roman asks, leaning over to Virgil with a stick of black eyeliner.

“It was tolerable,” Logan says.

Virgil flinches as Roman pulls his hand away. Roman pats Virgil’s knee and leans in to do the other eye. “Did anyone start a flash mob?”

“A flash mob?” Logan asks with a frown. “What’s that?”

“Something that happens in the movies,” Roman says. “Everyone gets together and dances randomly- something like that.”

“No. High school is just like junior high school, except everyone says a lot of different words.”

“Like?”

“Lit,” Logan recites, “fam, savage-”

Virgil snorts. “Those aren’t just words high schoolers use- I know all of them.”

“Oh,” Logan says. “Can you teach me what they mean?”

Roman frowns. “Nerd,” he teases. “Get out the flashcards, buddy; Verge and I gotta lot to teach you.”

-O-

  * Logan needs flash cards to fit in.



-O-

Logan learns that the blue-haired girl apparently is named Marie and the student who’s obsessed with robots goes by Ashe. He learns that Patton drives his mom’s minivan everywhere except to school to save gas. He learns that the school’s rib sandwiches are not to be trusted, but their grilled chicken salads are state of the art. He learns that Patton speaks an unfamiliar language of puns, “kiddos,” and encouragement.

Logan also learns it takes Patton approximately 2 days to consider someone his best friend.

“After school do you want to come meet my dog?”

“That doesn’t sound undesirable,” Logan says. “I’ll have to text Mrs. Guerra.”

“Mrs. Guerra?” Patton asks.

“My foster mother.”

“Oh,” Patton says. He doesn’t pull the stupid sympathetic face everyone seems to; he doesn’t ask questions. He just grins and goes on saying, “Better ask her now! We can ride the bus to my house if she says yes.”

-O-

  * Guerra, Roman, and Virgil are the only people on his phone.



-O-

Mrs. Guerra doesn’t hesitate even once. She’s probably so elated that Logan for once is hanging out with other students his own that she doesn’t care exactly _who_ it is. She just texts Logan, **Sure thing, sweetie!!!! Have fun! <3 :* :***

Patton’s house is huge with a backyard that seems to stretch on for miles. His dog is a big yellow lab that licks Logan’s hand and sniffs his backpack like it’s the most fascinating thing on the planet. Patton and Logan throw a little yellow ball to the dog until Patton says he wants to show Logan his room.

His room isn’t messy, but it’s 20x more lived in than Logan’s has ever been. His walls are taped with many pictures of Patton hanging out with friends, his dog, his parents, and then pictures of other dogs Logan doesn’t recognize. Patton picks up his MacBook and sets it on his desk, then flops down on the bed.

“How do you like Daisy?” Patton asks.

“She’s a… an endearing dog,” Logan says.

Patton grins and nods. “She’s my favorite.”

“I’ve never had a dog before,” Logan says, “but I’ve always admired people who do.”

“Dogs are great,” Patton says. “You should try and convince Mrs. Guerra to get one!”

“She’s allergic to dogs,” he explains.

“Hm. That stinks,” Patton says. He lays back. “Do you like high school so far?”

Logan shrugs. “It’s all right. I like to learn.”

“But not the whole high school experience?”

“Not really,” Logan admits. “Too many people.”

Patton laughs. “There is a lot of people.”

-O-

  * Logan hasn’t ever had a friend.



-O-

September is almost over and flyers about homecoming are plastered all over the school and Logan privately believes he’ll just stay home. Maybe get some extra studying out of the way. But then-

“Wanna go to homecoming?” Marie asks.

“Are you asking me on a date?” Logan asks, because, really, he doesn’t want her to. He likes Marie- but she’s his friend. Nothing more.

She laughs. “No. Ashe, Patton, and I are going as friends.”

“Oh, that sounds adequate. I’d love to attend with you all.”

“Sure. I’ll add you to our group chat.”

“Group… chat?” Logan asks.

“Oh God, tell me you know what that is.”

“I know what a group chat is,” Logan says. “You can’t live with Roman and Virgil and not know what a group chat is.”

She pulls out her phone and messes on it for a few minutes. Seconds later, Logan’s phone dings.

**You have been added to The Beez Kneez!**

“Catch you later, Logan.”

-O-

 **Ashes Ashes:** I say we all wear matching top hats.

 **Marie me:** No.

 **Patt on the back:** If you want to, that’s great!

 **Ashes Ashes:** we should dress like robots.

 **Marie me:** *puke

 **Ashes Ashes:** you crush my dreams, marie.

 **Logan:** Perhaps we all could wear matching suits and ties.

 **Marie me:** Finally a decent idea.

 **Ashes Ashes:** our suits should be yellow!

 **Marie me:** no.

-O-

They all wear black suits, nothing special, with blue ties. When Patton shows up at Logan’s door to pick him up with Ashe standing by his side, Virgil pounces on Patton and shows off his MCR collection, which Patton acts delighted about. Roman pretends to stab Ashe with his sword and Ashe goes along with it, pretending to bleed out on the carpet.

“Prince Roman has slaughtered me! What a world, what a world!” they yell.

“Ha! I’ve defeated you at last!” Roman shouts.

Mrs. Guerra comes in, giggling and holding her camera. “Let me get a picture, please.”

Marie grabs Ashe up by their collar and squishes into Patton’s side. Patton wraps his other arm around Logan and flashes a huge grin. Logan works for a small smile and he manages it as the camera _clicks_.

“Have fun!” Mrs. Guerra says. She grasps Logan by his hands and then gently kisses his cheek. He says goodbye to Roman and Virgil and goes outside. Patton’s van awaits in its golden soccer-mom glory and all.

“Our chariot awaits,” Marie says.

“I call shotgun!” Ashe yells.

Patton abides by every speed limit, which annoys Marie more than the loud 90’s pop that Ashe blasts the entire way. They pull up to the school and music can be heard all the way outside. Several girls take off their heels and pocket them upon seeing just how far the parking lot really is from the entrance.

“I wore my brother’s loafers,” Marie says. Logan looks down; she’s not lying.

Ashe groans. “Marie! Have some dignity.”

“You’ve taken it all away from me!” she shouts.

Patton laughs. “Tickets?”

“I have them,” Logan says, pulling them from his pocket; the group had all agreed he was the most responsible one to hold onto them until the actual date of the dance.

As soon as they get in the gymnasium, Ashe and Marie go off to the huge mass of students dancing without shame. Logan makes his way to Patton who hands over four dollars in return for four cans of Coca-Cola.

“I love homecoming. Everyone joining together to have fun!” Patton says with a smile. Logan watches a girl shove her date away and march off, bursting into tears. Patton’s smile drops an inch. “Well, er, most of the time.”

Patton makes his way to a table and sits down, cracking open one of the sodas. “I can pay you for mine,” Logan offers, slipping his hand into his suit pocket.

Patton laughs. “Don’t even think about it. I like buying stuff for my friends! Even if it’s only a Coke.”

“Who has coke?” Marie asks, sitting down and reaching for a can.

“Patton,” Logan explains then winces. That probably was obvious.

“Patton, my dude, I thank you,” Ashe says, cracking one open. “Dance floor is kinda gross, fyi. Watch out.” Ashe stands up, takes a gulp and sets the can back down.

“Where’re you going then?” Marie asks.

“Dance floor,” Ashe says. Marie rolls her eyes and takes a graceful little sip and chases after her friend. Patton watches on fondly.

“After the dance, we should grab dinner,” Patton suggests.

“I’m not sure if Mrs. Guerra will let me.”

“Ask,” Patton says. Then, “If you want, of course.”

“I’ll ask,” Logan asks, withdrawing his phone.

-O-

The dance is loud; very loud. Luckily, Patton doesn’t care that Logan sits back nearly the entire time. However, Ashe is less forgiving and begs Logan half the night to dance. For one song, he does. They play something dubstep that everyone besides Logan knows the lyrics to. Ashe jumps up and down.

“Having fun?” they scream.

Logan twitches as another body slams into him and he awkwardly shuffles aside to make room for a group of girls killing it on the dance floor. “Sure,” he says.

-O-

  * Logan is too good of a liar.



-O-

Patton drops Ashe and Marie off after the dance and pulls into the parking lot of a fast food restaurant. He orders two sandwiches and two big milkshakes. Patton stirs his straw in the creamy dessert and then turns to Logan.

“What’s your favorite kind of ice cream?”

“Chocolate,” Logan says without hesitation. “It’s simple, but it tastes good.”

Patton nods. “I like bubble gum ice cream.”

Logan winces. “It tastes like frozen sugar.”

“Apparently I like frozen sugar then,” Patton says. He grins. “What’s your favorite hobby?”

“Studying.”

“I prefer tossing the ball to Daisy,” Patton says. He blows a few bubbles in his milkshake then slurps the foam off the top. “You know what you wanna do when you graduate?”

“I would like to be a teacher,” Logan says. He takes a sip of his own milkshake. “Why are you asking so many questions?”

“I wanna get to know you,” Patton says. “You’re not very… expressive all the time, so it’s kinda hard to figure you out.”

Logan feels his stomach flop; he feels like he’s failed a test. “Oh. I apologize for that-”

“No, no, kiddo, it’s fine,” Patton says. He takes another slurp of his milkshake and a few droplets splatter on the steering wheel. “Favorite song?”

“I prefer podcasts to music.”

“That’s cool.” Patton sighs as he leans back, a soft and content smile on his lips. “Night or day?”

“Night. It is so peaceful at night.”

“Dogs or cats?”

“Dogs.”

Patton laughs. “Good. Favorite game?”

“Word association games.”

“Tell me a secret.”

Logan hesitates and looks down at his milkshake. Have they reached the appropriate time in their friendship to tell each other secrets? “Secrets are illogical.”

Patton nods and stirs his milkshake. “That makes sense.”

-O-

  * **Secret: it doesn’t.**



-O-

 **Ashes Ashes:** for fifty dollars would 1 of u dye ur hair purple with me.

 **Marie me:** -_-

 **Marie me:** I like blue.

 **Logan:** Why can you not dye your hair by yourself?

 **Ashes Ashes:** everything’s better with a friend.

 **Marie me:** did you JUST reference Barney?

 **Ashes Ashes:** yes

 **Marie me:** get out of my house.

 **Pat on the back:** I’ll dye my hair with you!! :D

 **Marie me:** I guess I will too.

 **Ashes Ashes:** u gotta do it 2, logan. It’s the rules.

 **Logan:** I would rather not.

 **Ashes Ashes:** plllsssss

 **Logan:** I suppose I will if it will make you happy.

 **Pat on the back:** we’re all gonna be matchies!!! It’ll be so cute!!!! :D

-O-

Roman helps Logan put the dye on as Virgil watches, cross-legged on the bathroom floor.

“You’re gonna stick out like a sore thumb,” Virgil warns.

“Stuff it, Hot Topic,” Roman says. “It’ll look amazing! Though more colour would be nice-”

“No,” Logan rushes to say. “I’d rather it just be purple. I don’t want to look too foolish.”

“You won’t,” Roman says. He squirts more of the purple into his gloved hands. “It will look great. I promise.”

-O-

Halfway through the month of March, Logan comes on the bus and Patton isn’t there. He gets to school and Patton sits at the lunch tables next to Marie, gently patting his back as Patton stares at the clock. He looks tired; he looks sad.

“Patton?” Logan asks. “What’s wrong?”

“Daisy died,” Patton says.

Logan freezes. “Oh,” he says.

“Yeah,” Patton whispers.

“I offer my sincere condolences.” Marie frowns and mouths something to Logan; Logan doesn’t understand. “How did she die?” Logan asks quietly.

“Dunno. It just happened during the night. I woke up and she-” Patton chokes on tears again.

“Oh.” Logan feels something uncomfortable squirm in his gut.

“I’m gonna grab some water for you,” Marie says. She slips from beside Patton and goes over to the cafeteria and joins the line. Logan stares and carefully sits next to Patton.

“Are you sad?” Logan asks quietly. Patton looks to Logan, surprised.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Logan shrugs. “Daisy was a happy dog, you know. I mean-” Logan tries to think of something nice to say; something comforting. “She lived a life that many would desire. You made her happy.”

Patton bursts into tears, even louder. Several students turn to stare. Logan jerks away from Patton, trembling. He said something wrong. He’s a coward and he knows it, so he makes to run away, but Patton’s voice stops him.

“Where are you going?” Tears streak Patton’s face; it’s not a good look for him.

“I thought, perhaps, you did not wish for my company.”

Patton pats the seat beside him and Logan slowly lowers himself beside Patton. Patton leans on his shoulder, sniffing. “Thank you, Logan.”

Logan doesn’t say a word; he hopes his comfort is good enough, but he knows it’s not.

-O-

  * Logan doesn’t know how to comfort people.



-O-

Patton and Logan fight and the entire school watches it and broadcasts it like it’s the juiciest gossip in the world. In their minds- it is; the smartest boy and the kindest boy, yelling in the hallways over something stupid that Logan _can’t even remember._

“We’re supposed to be friends,” Patton says.

“We’re not,” Logan argues. His hands are shaking beside his body. “I spend time with you and speak with you; we are aquatinted, but not friends.”

Patton’s face crumples. “You-” Patton’s eyes leak tears and Logan backs away. “You’re just a stupid freshman anyway.” Patton storms off.

“What a freak,” comes a whisper in the hall. “That Logan. What an entitled brat.”

Marie marches up to him after class and punches him in the jaw. “You’re an insensitive jerk, Logan. Who the hell says something like that?”

Logan pretends the tears stinging his eyes are of pain, not fear. Not sadness. Not anger. He doesn’t feel. Logan’s not-

-O-

He goes home and drops his backpack on the floor. Virgil races to him, excitedly, but Logan brushes him off with a rushed, “I have to use the restroom.” As soon as he’s in there, he locks the door. He pants. He breathes in great, huge, and deep breaths that make his heart rattle in his chest. _Be logical, Logan. Think logically. Everything you said was logical_ -

_“What a freak.”_

**Theory; Logan is not a human being.**

_“Who the hell says something like that?”_ ~~No one.~~

**Theory; Logan is not a human being.**

_“You’re an insensitive jerk, Logan.”_ ~~He is. God, he is.~~

**_Theory; Logan is not a human being. Theory; Logan is not a human being. Theory; Logan is not a human being. Theory; Logan is not a human being. Theory; Logan is not a human being. Theory; Logan is not a human being. Theory; Logan is not a human being._ **

**_~~Logan’s core programming has crashed.~~ _ **

He stares in the mirror and leans in close, staring into his eyes in the mirror; they look normal, but they’re glassy. Too mechanic. Too unrealistic. Logan wonders if his manufacturer was bad at making eyes.

_Logan doesn’t remember walking home from the bus stop after a long day of third-grade drama. He doesn’t remember opening the door. He doesn’t remember neatly setting his backpack beside his father’s briefcase. He doesn’t remember going into the living room and seeing his parents lying there, choking on white foam. He doesn’t remember screaming until a neighbor bangs frantically on the door. Hedoesn’t rememberHedoesn’trememberHedoesn’t rememberHedoesn’tremember_

Logan pokes his left arm with a shaking hand. He presses his right thumb into it and he pushes hard. The skin goes white, then yellowish, then a light reddish tint over the normal colour. He pushes again, harder this time. It takes longer for the red to go away. His fingers tremble and he claws until little red beads come to the surface.

Robots don’t bleed.

Logan sinks to the floor and pushes his hand against his mouth, feeling his entire being shaking to its core.

_Logan remembers walking home from the bus stop after a long day of third-grade drama. He remembers opening the door. He remembers neatly setting his backpack beside his father’s briefcase. He remembers going into the living room and seeing his parents lying there, choking on white foam. He remembers being terrified. He remembers being so entirely terrified and horrified and scared-_

_He remembers screaming until a neighbor bangs frantically on the door. He remembers answering the police’s thousands of questions. He remembers therapy; he remembers Mrs. Guerra shaking his hand. He remembers Roman and Virgil staring at him with wide and curious eyes._

_HeremembersHeremembersHeremembersHeremembers_

Someone raps on the door. “Logan?” Logan shudders and bites down on his fist. His heart beats apace in his chest. He chokes down sobs. The knocking quickens. “Logan! Hey, buddy, are you okay?”

Roman sounds worried; Logan should open the stupid door and assure Roman that everything is okay. But Logan’s tears only get faster and he lets out a sob too loud, too _loud_. Then he hears someone sliding something in the lock and Roman is shoving open the door, eyes wide and worried. His eyes flint from Logan’s face, his arms, and then to the door.

“Logan, what’s the matter?” Roman asks. Logan buries his head into his hands and begins crying. He hasn’t felt this sad in- ~~ever~~. Roman squats down to Logan’s level and wraps his arms tightly around him. “Man, it’s okay. Shh.”

Logan just cries harder.

-O-

Mrs. Guerra gets home from work and Roman tells on Logan. Well, he doesn’t “tell on him” in the sense that he tries to get Logan in trouble, but he does tell Mrs. Guerra that Logan had a worrisome breakdown in the bathroom and before Logan can explain a thing, his therapist is being called up and Mrs. Guerra is telling Logan of his appointment that he _has to go to_ tomorrow right after school.

He calls Patton.

“Patton?”

“Hey, Logan,” Patton says lowly.

“Patton… I’m really sorry,” Logan whispers. He clutches the phone tightly. “I wasn’t being logical; I was mean.”

Patton sighs. “I forgive you, Logan. I shouldn’t have called you a stupid freshman; you know you’re my best friend in the world and I love you a lot.”

Logan swallows. “You too are my best friend,” Logan admits quietly. “I- I’m sorry.”

“I already said I forgive you,” Patton says. “We’re okay.”

“Patton?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think…?” Logan swallows. “Do you think I am a freak?”

“No. I’m sorry that kid said that about you, Logan. And I’m sorry you were put on the spot like that.”

“I put myself on the spot,” Logan admits. “I was mean.”

“Logan,” Patton says. His voice sounds serious and stern. “I forgive you, kiddo. It’s okay.” Logan almost replies. He almost argues, but Patton begins rambling about some silly video he saw in the group chat with Marie and Ashe (and Logan really should check it instead of pretending it doesn’t exist), and Logan decides to not even try.

-O-

“It’s been a wonderful school year,” the principal says. “I’m so excited to see what mark you all make on the world this summer vacation!”

Logan thinks it’s a bit illogical and too optimistic to think a big mark could be made on the world in the matter of a few months by some high schoolers, but he still claps politely with the rest of the student body. Patton cheers loudly beside him and then turns to Logan.

“We’re gonna have a great summer!” he says with a huge smile. He flings his arm around Logan. Logan hesitantly wraps his own around Patton.

“We will,” he says back.

“I love you,” Patton says.

Logan swallows. “I love you too.” The clapping continues; Logan feels happy.

-O-

**_~~Theory; Logan is not a human being.~~_ Disproven. **

  * Logan feels.



**Author's Note:**

> Crisis chat line: http://chat.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/GetHelp/LifelineChat.aspx
> 
> Suicide prevention hotline: 1-800-273-8255
> 
> If you're struggling, whether from trauma, suicidal thoughts, a crisis- whatever, please reach out. Reaching out is an essential step in the road to recovery. 
> 
> Feedback is much appreciated!


End file.
